First Date
by Joe's girl
Summary: Post season 2, pure Tony and Michelle fluff. This is a prequel to Escape to Argentina, but is very different from my other stories. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1: Michelle

_This is something I've been thinking about for a while. I've always written in third person andI wanted to write a story in first person for a change. Imentioned Michelle and Tony's first date briefly in Escape to Argentina. I thought I would go back and tell it in detail from each of their perspectives. _

_So, as usual, I don't own any of this. If I did, I'd write happy endings for my favorite couple!_

Chapter 1: Michelle

I looked at the clock for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. Lying in bed was pointless; there was no way I was going to go back to sleep. My mind was too full of all that had happened in the last day.

It all started out like a normal day when I arrived at work at 7 o'clock yesterday morning, but by the time I left at 8 o'clock this morning, my life had changed. Thirty of my colleagues were dead from a bomb blast at CTU, lots more were injured. George Mason was dead. Officially he died crashing the plane that carried the nuke safely out of LA, but unofficially he died of radiation poisoning. The plane crash just got him first.

There were a couple of bright spots in the day though. I finally told Tony Almeida that I cared for him. It was probably a mistake, but I felt better after I did it. He claimed to feel the same way. For a moment I thought there might be hope for us yet assuming that we survived the day.

Once the nuke was detonated and LA was safe, I thought everything would be fine. Maybe Tony even meant what he said to me and he would ask me out to dinner and a movie. I was so tired, I thought I'd be able to come home in a few hours and sleep. Then the Cypress audio surfaced and it all hit the fan again. Tony and I were completely at odds. He was on a major power trip after he was named acting director. I don't know if it was really a power trip or if he was just scared and didn't know how else to take control. I finally had to admit that I had been in touch with Jack Bauer. Tony didn't seem as pissed as I thought he would be. Anyway, I am sure I blew away any chance I had of ever getting close to him.

Like that wasn't enough, I had to deal with Carrie Turner. Then Danny showed up. The last thing I needed was Danny's volatile personality in the middle of a crisis. Even without Carrie that would have been difficult. Add Carrie to the mix and it was like torching an oil refinery. So what does the always in control, never lets her emotions get in the way Michelle Dessler do next? I cried! I can't believe I cried. Like a little kid. Things weren't going my way, so I cried. The worst part of it was that I didn't even have the good sense to go cry in the locker room. I stood in a public hallway.

The next thing I know, Tony is there. I've never felt so stupid in my entire life. I'm crying in front of my boss. He was nice about it, but what was he going to do. He couldn't afford for me to have a total break down and have to go home. He needed every warm body he could find at that moment. I thought it was nice of him to hug me and let me cry, but what ever possessed me to kiss him is beyond me. He was so close and so warm and he was pushing my hair out of my face. I noticed that he didn't exactly push me away. I'm pretty sure that I felt his tongue in my mouth. He said later that he wasn't sorry that we kissed and he did hold my hand in the holding room, but I'm sure he was just being a gentleman.

That's one of the things that attracts me to him. He is such a gentleman, but he also respects my abilities. Most men can't do both. If they respect your abilities, then they treat you like one of the guys. If they act like a gentleman toward you, then they assume you are stupid. Tony has found just the right mix. Oh, why am I dwelling on Tony? By the time we left this morning he said "good job" and that's it. I guess that's as much as I should expect from the director of CTU. I should be thrilled that the director says "good job." Somehow coming from Tony, it just isn't enough.

Why am I still laying here? I might as well get up. I've slept most of the day, at least since about 9 o'clock after I dropped Danny off at his place. I hope leaving him alone was alright. I just wasn't in the mood to babysit a 32 year old. He was still pretty sedated from the drugs they gave him. I'm sure he'll sleep most of the day. I'll call him later. I've got 48 hours off, so there is plenty of time to see him.

I decided to get up and clean my apartment. I had just finished scrubbing my kitchen floor when the phone rang. This better not be CTU. I will refuse to go back in there, I swear!

I checked the caller ID; it was Tony. Unfortunately, I guess I can't refuse to go in if the director calls me.

"Dessler," I answered.

"Hi, Michelle, it's Tony. I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, I've been awake for a while. What's up?"

"I just thought I'd see how you were doing."

"I'm okay. How about you?"

"I'm fine. Is your brother okay?"

"Yeah, I left him at his house. He'll probably sleep most of the day. Thanks for being so understanding. Have you heard anything about Jack?"

"Ya, I called the hospital and talked to Kim. He's going to be okay." He paused. I thought he was going to say his goodbyes and that would be it. "Uh, Michelle…I, uh, I guess this isn't going quite like I planned it, but the truth is, I really don't want to be alone this evening. My mind is just spinning. I wondered if we could get together for dinner?"

"Oh Tony, I feel the same way. I was cleaning my apartment just to stay busy. I'd love to go get some dinner. Did you want to meet some place?"

"I don't feel like going to a crowded restaurant. If it's okay with you, I could cook and we can eat here."

"That would be great, Tony. Can I bring something? I'll warn you, I can't cook, but I could bring some wine or pick up dessert."

"Wine would be nice."

"Okay. What time should I get there?"

"Around seven would work for me, how about you?"

"Seven is fine. I'll see you then." I hung up unable to believe what just happened. Tony Almeida just invited me to dinner at his place. I dropped my scrub rag back into the bucket of gray, murky water and put the bucket where I wouldn't trip over it. I didn't feel like taking the time to pour out the water and clean the sink.

I went to the bathroom for a shower. I washed my hair with a honey and vanilla shampoo then I scraped two days worth of stubble off of my legs with a new razor taking care not to nick myself. As I toweled off I wondered what to expect tonight. Is this just a friendly dinner or is Tony thinking more. I shuddered at the thought. As much as I cared for Tony, my past experiences with men made me shun the idea of intimacy. "Shun" was a nice word. The truth was, the thought disgusted me. Even when I thought about Tony I couldn't imagine being intimate with him. Not tonight for sure; maybe never.

Try as I might, I couldn't keep my thoughts from drifting back to my last boyfriend Brent Hayden. I worked with Brent at Division. We weren't in the same department but our paths crossed regularly. It all started so innocently. How did it end so badly?

I didn't know anyone when I started at Division. The job was so intimidating and the people weren't overly friendly. Let's face it, people don't take jobs with the CIA to make friends. There are generally there to do a job and go home and try and forget all of the classified shit that they learned that day. That's why so many agents are so screwed up.

Anyway, Brent was friendly. He showed me around and got a group of people together to go out for happy hour after work on my first day. All in all he seemed nice. He was older than me, about 45 to my 27. It didn't matter to me, in fact, I kind of liked the age difference. He didn't need to play the games that men my age played. He was so mature; almost a father figure. I didn't realize it at the time but I guess that was what I was looking for since my own father left us when I was ten. I hadn't seen him even once in the last fifteen years. Brent was a lot of fun. He took me interesting places: out of the way museums and off-beat theaters and clubs. He was divorced, although it wasn't clear to me for a long time if he had been married once or twice. He had two kids that were in their teens who he didn't seem to have any real relationship with. That probably should have been a warning sign for me. Any guy who doesn't have a relationship with his children has got other problems. My own father was a good example of that.

I had been at Division for a couple of weeks and Brent and I had eaten lunch together in a group several times when he first asked me out. He suggested that we go to see the new exhibit at the museum of modern art and dinner afterwards at one of the most exclusive restaurants in LA. I knew exactly what that meant. You know when a man who you have never gone out with before asks you to an expensive restaurant that you are going to be expected to "perform" afterwards. It's like prostituting yourself. He takes you someplace nice and gets sex as a reward. I didn't kid myself when I said "yes" I knew we would end up in bed, but the idea didn't really bother me.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not "easy" by any stretch of the imagination. I really didn't know Brent that well but I liked him and I liked the way he treated me. Despite the fact that I was 27, my experience with sex was limited. I didn't lose my virginity until my junior year in college. At that point, I thought I was probably the oldest virgin left on campus.

I never dated a lot. Men tend to stay away from the smart girls. I was always good at math and science and spent my day in classes full of men who were only interested in me if I had the notes from a class that they missed or they needed someone to study with. They never looked twice at me and considered that I might be pretty.

I finally started dating the brother of one of my girlfriends. He was okay and I was tired of all the girls making fun of me for being a virgin, so when he quite obviously wanted to have sex with me after our second date, I decided to do it. By the time it was over, I pretty much wondered what all the fuss was about. I didn't really enjoy it. He obviously did. He moaned and groaned the whole time and once he was satisfied, he didn't seem to care too much that I wasn't. I kept telling myself that the next time would be better, but it never was. I eventually broke off the relationship and it was another six months before I was dating someone again. And, once again, I found the sex mediocre. I was beginning to wonder what was wrong with me.

Now here I was with an older and far more experienced man. I hoped that it would be different this time. At first it seemed to be. He took a little more time with me and actually engaged in foreplay. We shared a bottle of wine and he put on soft background music. I have to admit, I still wasn't sure what all the fuss was about, but Brent was much better that the frat boys I had been with in the past.

It was fun for a while. Brent took me all kinds of nice places. I started spending more and more time at his house. He suggested that I move in and, although I considered it, I wasn't ready for that kind of commitment. Shortly after I told him that I didn't want to move in things started to change. On the surface he was still treating me wonderfully, but when we were alone, he started to make subtle little comments. He would tell me that I was too uptight or that I didn't know how to have fun. He always said them with a smile on his face as if they were in jest, but I got the feeling that he was serious.

One night when we were in bed, he was having trouble getting aroused. I didn't think it was a big deal but he got really upset about it. He told me that if I knew how to please him, this wouldn't be a problem. The next time we were in bed he started to get a little rough. Nothing bad, he just held me down a little more forcefully than I thought necessary. The next morning when I mentioned it to him he told me to lighten up, but he did say that he was sorry and that if I didn't like it rough, he wouldn't do it again.

Each time we had sex it seemed to get a little rougher. I tried everything. I made sure we had wine and music, I tried to do things that I knew he especially liked, but nothing seemed to help. When I asked him about it, he blamed me. He said that I didn't know how to excite him; that if I were better in bed then he wouldn't have to be so rough.

I must have been crazy, but I let it continue. One Friday evening after work, we went to a going away party for a coworker. The party was crowded and loud and plenty of alcohol was served. By the time we got back to Brent's house, neither of us was feeling any pain.

As we walked in the front door, Brent grabbed me and started kissing me. The kissing got more and more intense and he started to undress me. He pushed my jacket off of my shoulders and threw it to the floor. I was drunk and at that moment the whole thing seemed funny. I'm not sure what happened next. I suggested that we go upstairs but I don't know what set him off. I could almost see the anger rise in his eyes. Brent threw me down on the tile floor in the entrance hall. When he did, my head hit the floor and I was stunned for a second. I started to get up, but I was drunk enough to not have much coordination and Brent pushed me back down.

Before I could stop him he was sitting on top of me. He had one knee on either side of my hips and was sitting on my stomach. He grabbed my blouse and ripped it open. At first I was angry but now I was scared. I tried to get away, but he was too strong. He pulled a pocket knife out and cut my bra in the middle and pushed it open.

I begged him to stop and I fought as hard as I could. He held both of my wrists with one hand and pulled off his necktie. He wound the silk tie around my wrists and tied it tightly. I was completely helpless and crying at that point. I decided to stop fighting because it seemed pointless. That apparently fueled his anger. He punched me twice and told me to stop crying. The second blow split my lower lip and I could taste blood.

He reached down and opened his pants. I could feel how excited he was. He raised up on his knees so that he could pull down his pants and he forced himself deeply into my mouth. I was crying hard and gagging. I couldn't breathe and I thought he was going to choke me to death.

My shirt had ridden completely up my back and was under my neck now. My back was bare against the rough tile on the floor and I could feel that the frantic rhythm he was maintaining was rubbing my shoulder blades against the tile and abrading them. I could feel a wet spot developing under one of them and knew that it was bleeding.

Brent was still quite aroused, and was becoming more and more frustrated that he couldn't climax. He pulled away and slapped me hard when I begged him to stop. Then he pushed up my skirt and tore off my panties and forced himself inside of me. I was screaming now so he clamped one hand over my mouth and used the other to pin my arms over my head. I could feel him bruising my wrists the way he pressed them to the floor. Again he picked up an intense rhythm. I thought it would never end. I have no idea how long it went on but he finally put his head back and groaned loudly. I sobbed with relief hoping, praying that it was over.

Brent unceremoniously pulled himself out of me and pulled up his pants. Then he untied my wrists but held my arms pinned at my sides. He leaned down close to my face, his breath rancid with whiskey. He looked into my eyes and said, "If you ever tell anyone about this I will categorically deny it. You have no history at Division, I do. Who do you think they will believe? I've already made sure that all the guys know you like rough sex. I'm the envy of my department. So, if you think you can bring me down on some rape charge or some sexual harassment complaint, you've got another thing coming, little girl. I will ruin you. You will never work for another government agency. Now I'm going to go to bed and I suggest that you come with me."

He let go of my arms and I curled up in a fetal position on my side. I lay perfectly still. I think I was in shock. I couldn't even cry any more.

"Suit yourelf. If you want to lie there, fine," he told me. "You'll be begging for me to take you back soon enough. Do you think other men are going to be interested in you after this? You're used goods, Baby. No man wants you in his bed anymore."

He jogged up the stairs as if nothing had happened. I heard him turn on the shower and I actually could hear him singing. I just laid there on the tile floor. I was cold and scared and I didn't know what to do next, but I knew that I wasn't going upstairs with him. The shower eventually stopped and it became quiet upstairs. It wasn't long before I could hear Brent snoring.

It was about 3:00am before I could get myself together enough to get off the floor. I finally stood up and straightened myself out as best I could and grabbed my purse. Fortunately we had taken my car to the party, so it was now parked in Brent's driveway. I found my keys in the bottom of my purse and slipped out the front door.

I don't remember driving home, but obviously I did. The next thing I really remember was waking up in my bed around noon feeling hungover and bruised from head to toe. My mouth tasted like a combination of stale alcohol and blood. I undressed and surveyed the damage. My lip was split and there was still some blood on my face and teeth. There was a welt on the left side of my face where Brent slapped me and his ring hit my cheek bone. My wrists were bruised a dark blue and there were bruises on both upper arms from where Brent first pinned me down. I turned and looked over my shoulder so that I could see my back. Both shoulder blades were scraped, but the right one was cut open and dried blood was smeared all over the area. The area over my tailbone was also scraped raw. There had been a small rug over the tile in Brent's entrance hall and it had created a rug burn on the backs of my legs.

I turned on the shower to the hottest water I could stand and got in. I have no idea how long I stood there. It could have been hours. I washed until I thought the skin was going to come off and still I didn't feel clean. I wanted the soap to erase the memory, but it wouldn't. I wanted to forget how scared and humiliated I felt, but I couldn't. I finally got out of the shower and dried off and fell back into my bed crying. I cried until I made myself sick. I hadn't eaten since the night before so my stomach was empty. I ran into the bathroom and vomited bile and then I sat on the bathroom floor with dry heaves.

I didn't know what to do next. I couldn't go to the police and I couldn't go to Brad Hammond. There was no real evidence that he raped me. People knew that we were intimately involved and date rape is hard to prove. It would be his word against mine and I knew he had a stellar record at Division.

I thought about quitting my job, but I couldn't afford to. That was when I remembered that there was an opening at CTU but I didn't know the details so I wasn't sure that I was qualified. I pulled myself together enough to talk on the phone and called my friend Jessica. Jess worked in the human resources office for the CIA, which was how I found out about the job at Division. She would know the details of the CTU job. Jess wouldn't suspect anything. Division was known to be a hard place to work so when I told her that I was interested in transferring to CTU, she would understand.

I was right, I called Jess and she didn't question my motives at all. She gave me the details and assured me that I was qualified. She also said that she thought I was a shoe in for the job. At that time, no one wanted to go to CTU. It was in turmoil since Nina Myers was exposed as a double agent and Jack Bauer had taken a leave of absence. George Mason had been named director but everyone knew that he had higher ambitions and he wasn't expected to stay at CTU very long. A number of people loyal to Jack Bauer didn't like George and transferred out of CTU. So the long and the short of it was that CTU was currently much like the red headed step child, no one wanted any part of it.

I told Jess that I wanted to put in a bid for the job that had been vacated when Tony Almeida was promoted to second in command. She told me that she would do it first think Monday morning.

When Monday arrived, I put on a long sleeved blouse to cover my bruises and used makeup to cover the marks on my face. I walked into the office determined to act as if nothing happened. A couple of people asked about my lip and the cut on my cheek but I said that I fell when I was out running and no one seemed to question it. Brent made sure that he avoided me and I avoided him as well. It was late in the day when Brad Hammond called me into his office to say that George Mason had reviewed my bid for the job at CTU and was would like to interview me on Wednesday afternoon. He asked if there was any reason that I wanted to leave Division and I told him that I thought the job at CTU would be more of a challenge. He agreed that that was true and dismissed me from his office.

I interviewed at CTU and was offered the job. I think I fell in love with Tony the minute I met him. Everybody knew his history with Nina. The whole story about Nina made front page news for days and Tony hadn't been spared. He had been suspended from CTU pending an investigation into his relationship with Nina, but he was eventually cleared of any wrong doing and was reinstated. Tony was shy and aloof and I could tell that he was very guarded when he talked to anyone but especially to women. He was so good looking and nice that women were always looking for a reason to talk to him. He didn't seem to notice any of them including me.

The truth was that I didn't really want him to notice me. I didn't think that I ever wanted any man to ever notice me again. I just wanted to be able to watch him and admire him from a distance where he couldn't hurt me.

Now here I was, after telling Tony that I cared for him just 24 hours ago, standing naked in front of my closet wondering what to wear on our first date.

_If you've read to this point, please review. I'm not sure if this is worth continuing or not. Let me know what you think._


	2. Chapter 2: Tony

_Wow! Thanks for the positive response to chapter 1. Since you obviously want me to continue, here's chapter 2…_

Chapter 2: Tony

"Seven is fine. I'll see you then." I hung up the phone and looked at it like I'd never seen a phone before.

"What did I just do?" I asked the empty apartment. "What the fuck did I just do?" This time I shouted. "Jesus Christ! What was I thinking?" Again I was talking to no one.

It was beginning to sink in that I had just asked Michelle Dessler to my apartment for dinner. I must be out of my mind. I was crazy about Michelle, I couldn't deny it and I had wanted to ask her out for months but tonight was not the night and inviting her to my apartment was not smart. We had both been through way too much in the last day; there were too many raw emotions for either of us to think straight right now.

I decided to concentrate on dinner. I had no idea what I was going to make. I had nothing worth eating in my apartment. I grabbed a jacket and keys and ran out to do some grocery shopping.

I live in a great neighborhood. Actually, it's the neighborhood that I lived in when my parents bought their first restaurant and moved to LA from Chicago. It's an ethnic neighborhood with all kinds of family businesses. I live above a book store and just down the street is the butcher shop and the produce market and just about anything else you could need.

I decided to stop at D'Amico's butcher shop for some good steaks. Mr. D'Amico was behind the counter in his blood stained apron.

"Hey, Tony," he said in his booming voice. He had a thick Italian accent. Usually when we spoke, I spoke in Spanish and he spoke in Italian. It was easier to figure out than when he tried to speak English. "What can I get for you today?"

"I'm not sure. Do you have any nice fillets?"

"Fillet mignon? Who's the lucky girl, Tony?" the butcher asked as he moved along the meat case.

"How do you know it's a girl?"

"Because if the guys are coming over to watch the game, you grill t-bones or New York strip steaks. You cook fillets for a woman."

I smiled. Mr. D'Amico had it all figured out.

"How about this, Tony?" he asked pulling out a piece of red meat. "How thick do you want me to cut them?"

I held my thumb and forefinger about an inch and a half apart. "About like this," I told him.

"What are you having for an appetizer? I have some nice oysters on the half shell. You know oysters are very romantic."

"I've heard that," I said trying not to encourage him. "Do you have any shrimp?"

Mr. D'Amico indicated the case across the store. "Jumbo ones. They're very tender."

"Okay, I'll take two fillet mignon and a dozen steamed jumbo shrimp. I'm going to run down to the produce market. I'll pick them up on my way back."

The produce market was two blocks away. While I walked I took out my cell phone and called my sister Vanessa. Vanessa was a pastry chef. She and a friend started a business baking for local restaurants and caterers.

"Vanessa," I said as she answered the phone. "Got any extras today?"

"Why? Do you suddenly have a sweet tooth?"

"No, I'm cooking dinner for a friend and I wanted some dessert. You make the best dessert around, so I thought I'd check and see if you had anything extra that was just going to go to waste."

"So who's the girl?" Vanessa asked.

"Who says it's a girl," I asked starting to get a little exasperated. Everyone seemed concerned with my love life and I knew why. I hadn't dated anyone since Nina made a fool of me. Everyone knew about my relationship with Nina. When she was revealed as a double agent, the story made page one of every newspaper in the country. I was identified as being 'intimately involved' with her.

"If you had male friends coming over, your idea of dessert would be ice cream and beer."

"Alright, she's a girl from work."

"Is she Latino?"

"No," I answered succinctly.

"Then I won't tell Mama and Pop."

"Thank you, I appreciate that." Our parents weren't prejudiced; they had plenty of friends that weren't Latino. They just didn't expect any of their eight children to date or, God forbid, marry someone that wasn't Latino. So far they hadn't been disappointed. Vanessa's husband Carlos and Ricardo's wife Rosa were both Latino. Our sister Angelina was engaged to a Latino and the girl Marco had dated all though college was also Latino. None of our three youngest brothers had dated seriously yet so the jury was still out on them. I was the oldest of the eight and the thought that I might marry an Anglo was just about killing my mother, especially after what happened with Nina. I tried to point out to her that Jamey was as much of a traitor as Nina and Jamey was Latino. Mama quickly noted that Jamey had been married to an Anglo.

"Okay, Tony," Vanessa said. "We did an Italian wedding today and I've got some stuff left. I'll put together a plate with Italian Brandy Cream Cake slices and some cannoli and Italian wedding cookies. How does that sound?"

"Like you're trying to marry me off, but I'll take it anyway. Thanks. Is there any way you can drop it off on your way home. I'm kind of rushed for time here. I need it before seven."

"Geez, Tony! First you want me to provide dessert and now you want a delivery service. You are going to owe me big time, Buddy! Carlos and I want to go to that new Eurasian restaurant that opened downtown next weekend. So cancel your plans next Saturday because you're babysitting."

"Deal," I told her and we hung up. I knew Vanessa was not as upset as she sounded. We were only 18 months apart in age and had grown up thick as thieves. Since we were the oldest of the brood and our parents worked an ungodly number of hours in the restaurant, we looked after our younger siblings much of the time.

I went into the produce market and picked up baby greens, pears and walnuts for a salad. Then I found nice zucchini and some yellow squash and a couple of firm, ripe tomatoes. I would cut them all up with a little onion, season with basil and sauté them in a little olive oil. While I was there, I picked up two nice potatoes and some strawberries and blueberries. That would do nicely. I paid for my purchases and started back toward the butcher shop.

On the way back, I made one more stop at the small grocery store. I picked up some gorgonzola cheese and a pint of whipping cream. I was already loaded down when I got back to Mr. D'Amico's butcher shop.

"Here you go, Tony," he said handing me the meat and shrimp wrapped up in white, butcher paper. "I wrapped those fillets with a strip of bacon. I thought the lady might like that."

I thanked him and made my way back to my apartment to get dinner started. It was almost 6:15. This was going to be tight but I should be able to have the salad and the shrimp cocktail ready by seven. I threw the potatoes on the grill to start baking and quickly chopped the vegetables. I wouldn't cook them until I started grilling the steaks. Finally I sliced the strawberries into two small bowls and sprinkled a handful of blueberries on top. I pulled out a mixer and whipped the cream. The berries and whipped cream would be dessert along with the sweets that Vanessa brought over.

I kept watching the clock as I cooked and set the table. I live in a loft apartment and I have a great rooftop balcony. The evening was going to be pleasant so I decided to set the table on the balcony. It took me a few minutes, but I actually found two matching plates and place settings of silverware. I also found a pair of candle holders and candles for the center of the table.

Should I use candles? Maybe that was too romantic. I didn't want this to become too romantic. I had screwed up relationships before by introducing sex too early, like on the first date, and I wasn't going to mess this one up. We definitely needed to get to know each other better before we took that next step. Not that I was adverse to finding myself naked and in bed with such a beautiful creature, but Michelle was different. She was special. I wanted everything to be perfect for her. I wanted to know that she wanted me as much as I wanted her. I couldn't help but remember the kiss we shared last night in the hallway at CTU. Wow! What a kiss! If we did that again, all bets were off. I would just have to make sure that we avoided any passionate kisses. I would kiss her on her cheek when she arrived and, depending on how the night went, I would kiss her lightly on the mouth when she left. That would be a good way to start. If we went out again, I would let it get a little more intense.

The knock at the door startled me back to reality. I knew Vanessa's knock. We exchanged pleasantries when I opened the door.

"How's this?" she asked as she handed me a plate loaded with dessert.

"Fantastic, Vanessa. I knew you wouldn't let me down." Without exactly pushing her out the door, I made it clear that I needed to finish getting ready. Vanessa took the hint and left.

It was just a minute after seven when I heard another knock. This one was more tentative than Vanessa's knock had been. I took a deep breath and went to the door.


	3. Chapter 3: Michelle

Chapter 3: Michelle

I don't think I have ever been as nervous as I was when I walked up the steps to Tony's apartment and knocked on the door. I straightened my skirt again and pushed some hair out of my face as I stood at the top of the steps. I hoped that I looked okay. I wanted tonight to be special. I wasn't sure why since the thought of a relationship scared the hell out of me, but I still wanted it to be special.

I had spent at least 20 minutes standing in front of my closet trying to decide what to wear. I wanted to look comfortable but not frumpy. I also wanted to look casual but not too sexy. I finally decided on a short denim skirt that buttoned up the front. It was snug, but not too tight. It was cinched at the waist with a flowered scarf. Then I put on a short lace camisole and covered it with a fitted white blouse. I left the blouse open at the neck and put a silver charm necklace on a black leather thong around my neck. I wanted my hair to look as if I hadn't fussed over it, so after 15 minutes of trying different styles, I ended up pulling it into a loose ponytail held in place with a large clip. I put on a light dusting of makeup in order to look natural and then I checked out the whole look in the full length mirror on the back of my bedroom door. I liked the look. I just hoped that Tony did, too.

The door opened and I couldn't help but smile. "Hi, Tony," I said.

"Hi," he responded awkwardly. He leaned over and kissed my cheek lightly. "Did you have any trouble finding the place?"

"No, thank goodness for GPS," I giggled a little. That was stupid, I thought. I can't act like a nervous schoolgirl. I handed two bottles of wine to him. "I didn't know what you were serving, so I got both white and red. I hope that's okay."

"That's great," he said as the conversation lulled.

"You have a great apartment," I told him as I walked into the living room. "Nice view."

"Thanks, I grew up in this neighborhood. When I took the job with CTU, I decided to move back here. It's so convenient. I'm only about 15 minutes away."

"I didn't know you grew up in LA. I thought you grew up in Chicago."

"I lived there until I was ten, then my parents bought a restaurant here and we moved. The restaurant was originally about four blocks from here and we lived upstairs. Several years later they moved the restaurant downtown and we moved to the suburbs."

"I didn't know your parents owned a restaurant. Have I ever heard of it?"

"It's called 'Old Madrid'. It's pretty well known."

"I've never been there but I've heard great things about it. I've heard the paella is the best."

"Yeah, Pop makes incredible paella," he smiled. "Would you like a glass of wine?"

I thought he'd never ask. I was dying for a little alcohol so I could relax. "I'd love some."

"How about if we start with the white and save the red for dinner?"

"That's fine," I said as I followed him into the kitchen.

I took the glass of wine from him and wandered back into the living room while Tony took care of some dinner preparations. There was a framed picture on the end table of Tony in the middle of a large group of people. He had his arm around a woman holding a baby. My curiosity got the better of me. "Is this a family picture?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said with a smile. "That's the whole crew. It was my niece's baptism. I'm her Godfather and that's my sister Angie holding her, she's her Godmother."

"You have a big family," I commented.

"I have two sisters and five brothers. So there are eight of us all together. Plus two of them are married and both have kids, so when we're all together it's a big crowd."

I continued to look at the picture and took a sip of my wine.

"I take it that you don't have a big family," he said.

"Just my brother, Danny, and his kids," I said not really wanting to discuss the issue.

"Your parents?" he asked.

"They divorced when I was a kid. I haven't seen my father since I was twelve. My mom died when I was 16."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to get personal."

"It's okay," I assured him and tried to smile. The silence was awkward.

"Hey, are you ready to eat? I thought we'd start with a shrimp cocktail out on the balcony, if that's ok with you."

"That sounds great," I said just happy to change the topic of conversation. I took another drink from my wine glass and Tony took it from me.

"Here, let me fill that," he said as he walked back into the kitchen.

We stepped out onto the balcony with full glasses of wine. Tony set the bottle on the table, then returned for the kitchen for the shrimp cocktail. He set one at each place and then held a chair out for me to sit. Maybe chivalry isn't dead.

We both ate our shrimp without saying much. After the shrimp, he put the steaks on the grill and brought elegant salads from the kitchen. The conversation picked up and as expected we started talking about the last painful day. It felt good to open up and talk about it. When I was alone in my apartment it was too upsetting to think about, but talking to someone else who had experienced it as well was therapeutic. By the time we finished the steaks and potatoes and vegetables we were pretty well talked out and I will full to the point of bursting. The only things we hadn't talked about were our kiss and the time we spent in the holding cell.

It was dark now and the only light we had was the candles on the table and a little light coming from Tony's living room through the sliding glass door and onto the patio. I liked the darkness. The air was cool and clear and I felt safe here. I stood and walked to the low wall that surrounded the balcony. I set my wine glass on the wall and Tony walked over and set his glass next to mine.

"Michelle," Tony started, "I want to thank you for sticking with me when Chappelle tried to charge us with treason. No one could prove you did anything but follow my orders. If it came to it, I was going to testify to that effect. I was willing to take the fall but it still felt good knowing that you were willing to stand by me."

"I couldn't let you take the fall, Tony. I'm the one who got you into it," I told him. I suddenly noticed how close our bodies were. We weren't quite touching, but we were so close. I could smell his aftershave. He turned slightly toward a noise, a car horn, on the street. As he did, our bare arms brushed lightly for just a fraction of a second. Maybe I had had too much alcohol but I could feel my skin tingle where it touched his. I sensed that Tony felt it too because he took a step back away from me.

"Are you…um… are you ready for dessert?"

"I shouldn't eat another thing, but after not eating for most of yesterday or today, I think I'm still hungry."

"Yeah, me too," he said. "Why don't we go inside; it's getting chilly out here. I'll put on some coffee."

Tony opened the sliding glass door for me and I stepped inside. Soon the apartment was filled with the aroma of fresh coffee. Tony came out of the kitchen with a plate of desserts and two dishes of berries topped with whipped cream on a tray.

"When did you find time to bake?" I laughed amazed at the beautiful plate of sweets.

"I cheated," he admitted. "My sister's a pastry chef. I begged her to bring some dessert over. Apparently she thought I was having a party for ten. This was a little more than I had planned on."

We sat on the sofa and ate dessert and drank coffee. We consciously left some room on the sofa between us. Tony reached over to wipe some whipped cream from my lip with a napkin and I felt the same electricity that I felt when he touched my arm outside. As he did it, he moved a little closer to me and then gently took my hand.

"Michelle, I've had a wonderful evening. I'm so glad you came over. I can't imagine how depressed I would have been if I had to be alone this evening with my thoughts."

"I feel the same way, Tony. It felt so good to talk it all out. I feel so much better than I did when I was at home."

We were staring into each others eyes and I knew that if I didn't move away that I was going to kiss him again. I wasn't sure I wanted to do that. It was all too confusing. I looked at my watch.

"It's getting late. Why don't I help you clean up before I go." I stood up and began collecting the dessert dishes and coffee cups.

Tony protested but I insisted. He had done all of the work and I wanted to help him clean up, I told him. The truth was that I didn't want to leave him, but I was terrified of being so close to him.

We went in the kitchen and I ran a sink full of soapy water to start washing dishes. "I'll wash. You can dry and put things away since you know where they go."

The kitchen was small and we stood close together. It seemed like any time either of us moved, we bumped into the other. I started to wonder if it was accidental or if we were subconsciously trying to do it. I wasn't sure if it was excessively warm in the room or if I was just flushed from standing so near Tony. The room seemed filled with sexual tension. Neither of us seemed to know what to say, so we did the dishes in silence. The jazz CD that Tony had put on played quietly in the background.

Finally, everything was clean and Tony was putting away a few last dishes.

"Where does this one go," I asked picking up a bowl.

"To my left, second shelf," he answered.

I squeezed past him and reached for the shelf. As I passed him, I pressed gently against his back. I regretted it the moment I did it. I'm sure he thought I was coming on to him, but I honestly didn't realize how little room there was to get past him.

"I'm… I'm sorry," I stammered.

"It's okay," he whispered. "I should have moved over for you."

"Well, everything is clean. I should really be going," I said as I stepped out of the kitchen. I picked up my purse from the floor near the door. Tony followed me to the door.

"Let me walk you to your car," he offered.

"That's okay, Tony. I'll be fine. Thanks again for having me. I had a wonderful time."

I was standing with my back to the door. Tony stood in front of me just inches away. I could feel the energy that radiated from his body. His eyes were like molten chocolate as they met with mine.

"I'd like to see you again, Michelle."

I wasn't sure what to say. My feelings for Tony truly scared me. I loved his company but I was so afraid of being hurt. I was so afraid that he would turn out like every other man I thought I loved in the past.

I tried to make light of his desire to see me again. I smiled, "You'll see me at work five days a week, Director Almeida."

Tony's face was serious. "I don't mean that, Michelle, you know that."

I swallowed hard. "I know, I want to see you again, too," I admitted.

He leaned forward and kissed me tenderly on the lips. Neither of us opened our mouths, but his lips seemed to linger longer than necessary and the kiss was a little firmer than I would have expected for a quick goodbye kiss.

Tony pulled his head back slowly but he was still looking into my eyes. He gently pushed some stray curls behind my ear. The touch of his hand on my face when he did that nearly sent me over the edge. I had never felt this way before and I was overwhelmed by it. We both tilted our heads at the same instant and our lips met again. This time our mouths were open and the kiss was deep and passionate. The same way we had kissed last night. Our arms encircled each other and I could feel Tony's hands moving up and down my back. I felt, more than heard, myself groan very quietly and the kiss became fore intense.

It was Tony who had the will power to stop. He pulled away and stepped back so our bodies were no longer touching.

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry. I never should have done that."

"Admit it Tony, we both wanted it."

"Michelle, I don't think I've ever felt this way before, but I want to take it slow. I promised myself that I wouldn't let myself do this yet."

"I know. I promised myself the same thing, Tony. But now that we're here, I almost can't help myself."

We closed the space between us and began to kiss again. This time the kisses were frantic. His tongue was deep in my mouth wrestling with mine. I had my hands on his neck and the back of his head pulling him closer to me. His hands were again moving up and down my body. I could feel him pressing against me. He was becoming aroused and that excited me even more.

I pulled away for a second to catch my breath. As I did, he started kissing my neck and sucking on my earlobe. His hot breath on my ear was more than I could stand.

"Oh God, Tony!" I whispered breathlessly, "make love to me, please. I want you to make love to me. I want to make love to you." I couldn't believe I just said it. My entire body ached for this man in a wave of desire that I had never felt for anyone before.

Tony pulled back and looked at me. "Michelle, are you sure about this. I don't want you to regret this."

I barely nodded. The truth was that I wasn't sure of it at all. I was terrified, but at this point my brain had stopped functioning and my body took over and as afraid as my brain was, my body wanted him.


	4. Chapter 4: Tony

Chapter 4: Tony

I must be dreaming! I have to be dreaming. I think Michelle just told me that she wanted to make love. I'm probably just hearing what I want to hear, because right now I'm so hard I'm about to burst out of my jeans. I was trying to position myself so that she couldn't feel me, but I gave up on that. In the last flurry of kisses, I pulled her even closer and now my pelvis is pressed against her. I hope she isn't just responding to my level of excitement.

I asked her if she was sure and she nodded. I think that means 'yes'. God, I don't want to mess this up. Sex could ruin everything. I knew that from previous experience. But at the moment, the tension between us is so great that I'm not quite sure how we can avoid it. Yeah, I could say 'no' right now, but I would have to see her every day at work and I'm not sure that I could even be near her anymore without wanting her desperately. So maybe we needed the sex to clear the air. Yeah, that's it. I can easily justify it in my mind. Sex won't muddy the waters, it will clear the air. Go ahead, Tony, you just keep thinking that.

I reached behind her head and opened the clip that held her hair. I had never seen her with her hair loose and I wanted to see it. She shook her head gently so that her hair fanned out across her shoulders.

"You are so beautiful," I said slowly and quietly putting emphasis on each word.

Michelle smiled and looked embarrassed. I leaned in to kiss her again. We kissed eagerly and the longer we kissed the more I knew that neither of us could just walk away without becoming intimate. Once I made that decision, I wanted to make sure the rest of the night was perfect for Michelle. I picked her up, cradling her in my arms. Michelle put her arms around my neck and smiled. I kissed her again and again as I carried her to my bedroom.

I laid her gently on the bed and sat down next to her. "Are you absolutely sure this is what you want, Michelle?"

Without saying a word, she began to unbutton her shirt. I took her hands in mine and kissed them and then took over unbuttoning her shirt. My hands were shaking and it took all of my concentration to complete the task.

I carefully unbuttoned her blouse to reveal some white lace thing. Why do women have to wear so many layers of clothes? All I've got on is a shirt, pants and boxers. How many layers does she have on? I have to admit, the lace thing is sexy. I slipped my hands under it and lifted it off over her head. I stroked her body and noticed several dark bruises that must have happened when she was thrown to the ground during the bombing yesterday. I kissed each bruise wishing that I had the power to make them go away, to make the pain of yesterday go away.

It was taking some serious self control not to just tear the rest of her clothes off and attack her. I have never wanted a woman this much in my life. I tried to control my breathing as I carefully kissed her neck and her shoulders and then moved my way down slowly. I ran my tongue along the edge of her bra and pressed my lips into her cleavage. She seemed tense at first, but she relaxed as I stroked and kissed her. I could feel her hands tugging at my shirt so I stopped kissing her long enough to take it off. Then I kicked off my shoes and lay down next to her. A few more minutes and about a thousand kisses later, we were naked in each others arms.

She was beautiful. Her skin was creamy white and smooth. I noticed the contrast between her porcelain skin and the deeper olive tone of my own. Her muscles were firm and tight. Her breasts were incredible. They were perfect soft handfuls that I wanted to caress and kiss forever. I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful woman.

She was participating willingly but I still sensed some tension. I wasn't sure why and I wished I knew what to do to make her more at ease. I kissed her lips and told her to stop me if she didn't want to go any further or if I did something she didn't like. Then I pinned her gently on her back and started exploring every inch of her body with my mouth and tongue. Her skin tasted so sweet that I couldn't get enough of it. It was so perfect and unblemished that I felt like I was leaving marks everywhere I kissed. The more I kissed her the more she seemed to relax. She ran her hands through my hair and stroked my face as I kissed her. She was clearly in ecstasy, writhing and moaning almost incessantly when I pushed her legs apart and began kissing the insides of her thighs. She raised her hips enough for me to know that she wanted me to kiss her more intimately.

"Oh, Tony!" she gasped loudly as she reached an intense climax. She arched her back and tossed her head slowly from side to side. As her moans subsided she reached down and stroked my face. I could feel her body begin to relax, her breath still coming in short pants.

I couldn't wait any longer. At the risk of sounding like a sex crazed animal, I had to have her. I carefully climbed on top of her trying not to let all of my weight rest on her. As I did that, I felt her tense up again. I slowed down and kissed her and brushed some hair out of her eyes.

"Michelle, we don't have to do this, Baby. I'll stop now if you want me to. I understand if this is too much, too soon." I knew that I would stop if she asked me to. Hell, I'd jump out the window if she asked me to! But stopping right now, as excited as I was, would probably kill me. I had barely contained myself to this point and I couldn't imagine holding out much longer, let alone stopping.

She didn't say a word, but reached down and closed her hand firmly around me. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. As she eased me inside of her, a long, loud groan escaped from my throat. Oh nice, Tony, I thought.She probably thinks you are some kind of animal. If the groan bothered her, she didn't show it. We fit perfectly together. She immediately picked up my rhythm. The sensation was unbelievable.

Without really meaning to, I groaned again. This one was louder and more drawn out than the first. As I groaned, Michelle wrapped her legs around my back and pulled me in deeper. I couldn't ever remember being as turned on as I was with Michelle. I wasn't sure what it was about her, but she was different than any other woman I had ever been with. I lay on top of her, kissing her, while my heart rate returned to near normal. I didn't really think it was possible for my heart rate to be normal while we were in bed together.

Once my brain returned from cloud nine, I eased myself off of her and pulled her into my arms. Neither of us spoke but we continued to kiss for a long time. All of the tension that I felt in her body earlier was gone as we stroked and kissed and explored each other.

We eventually settled into a comfortable position. I was lying on my back with my arm around Michelle. She lay on her side with her head pillowed on my chest. Her hand was resting on my stomach. I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed it. Our fingers intertwined loosely. Slowly, I felt her breathing slow and deepen. Her body relaxed and the hand that was holding mine became limp.

I sighed and kissed the top of her head. I hope this wasn't a mistake. I was afraid that she would wake up and regret this in the morning. I would hate myself if she did. I really should have exhibited more self control. She seemed so vulnerable to me after all she went thought yesterday and I hoped she wouldn't see me as taking advantage of her.

For all of my worrying, I couldn't help but smile to think that Michelle was sleeping in my arms. It seemed so domestic, so romantic. I didn't mean to compare this to my other relationships, but it was unavoidable.

The first girl I ever had sex with was when I was a senior in high school and we were in the back seat of my car in a dark parking lot. We certainly didn't spend the night together. In college, if I spent the night with a girl, it usually meant we were both so drunk that we pretty much passed out after sex.

More recently, I remembered the first time Nina and I had sex. At the time I would have said that we "made love" but now I knew better. It was sex and that was it. She needed a new source of information since Jack had gone back to his wife and I fit the bill. I just thought she wanted to make Jack jealous. I didn't know why she wanted me, but I didn't really care either. She was hot. Every guy at CTU thought so. I hadn't been in a relationship for a year or so and the thought of being intimate with her made my blood rush away from my brain and straight to my genitals.

On our first date we went to see a movie and she invited me in for a drink when I took her home. She poured wine for each of us and then sat close to me on the sofa. It was clear to me from the beginning that she was in control and had already planned how the evening would end. Within a half hour, we were pulling each others clothes off and having sex on her living room floor.

She was very good. I have to admit it. She knew tricks I would never have thought of. An hour later I was dressed and on my way home. She didn't suggest that I spend the night. In fact, it was pretty clear to me that she didn't expect or even want me to stay. I felt a little betrayed, but by the same token, I couldn't complain, the sex was great. The relationship progressed, which is to say, we kept having sex. We rarely went out. If we did, it was just to a local restaurant and then we went back to one of our apartments and had sex. She never spent the night at my place but on several occasions I ended up sleeping at hers. Even when we spent the night together, we never slept as close as Michelle and I were. In fact, she usually got up and put some kind of tee shirt and boxer shorts on and got back in bed. By morning we were at opposite ends of the bed.

Now after having made love with Michelle, here she was curled up in my arms. I loved it and wondered how I could ever go to sleep again without having her next to me. I was warm and comfortable. I didn't want to sleep and miss a moment of this feeling. But little by little I felt myself drifting off to sleep, wanting nothing more than to spend the next few hours dreaming about my new love and to wake up next to her.


	5. Chapter 5: Michelle

Chapter 5: Michelle

I awoke in the dark room still wrapped in Tony's arms. Our fingers were still partially entwined and resting on his chest. I smiled into the darkness. This evening had been unbelievable. Tony had been a lover like none I had ever had in the past. He wasn't in a hurry. He acted like we had forever. He took his time and he was so gentle. And, unless I was totally mistaken, he actually cared that I enjoyed myself. I've never had an orgasm like that before. Now I knew what I was supposed to be feeling all of those times and what I had completely missed out on.

I was so afraid at first and I wondered if he noticed how tense I was. He asked me more than one if I wanted to continue. My emotions were so mixed. I wanted to continue; I wanted to feel his hands on me. I wanted to feel him inside of me. But at the same time, I was afraid of all of those things. I was afraid that he would turn on me; that he would hurt me like I'd been hurt before.

Now I was happy that I trusted him and let him continue. I knew at that moment that I never wanted any other man to ever touch me again. I knew that I wanted to spend my life with him and carry his children. Oh God! Am I being melodramatic or what? This is stupid. You can't have sex with a guy one time and plan your life based on that. Maybe you think that in high school, but I'm too old for that.

I lay silently feeling his warm body against mine. He was breathing slowly and steadily. I guess all that effort had tired him out. I had to stifle a small laugh. He had been so turned on. The way he groaned just made me crazy. Part of me wanted to wake him up and make love again but he was sleeping so peacefully that I decided not to disturb him.

He had treated me so beautifully. I didn't want to think about it, but how could I help thinking about the men in my past. It was so obvious to me now how little they cared for me. At the time I just thought that was the way things were supposed to be. I never dreamed that a man could make me feel like Tony did. Most of them weren't being malicious. They were young and pretty much just concerned with their own wants and needs. We're all selfish at that age. I was no different. I wasn't really in those relationships to please the guy. I was in them so that I could enjoy myself. The difference was that I did care about them and I took the time to try and give them pleasure in hopes that they would reciprocate.

That explained my college boyfriends, but it didn't explain Brent. I tried not to think of him, but my mind was overwhelmed by the thoughts and images. The pain of that night suddenly hit me like a train. I had thought about it just a few hours earlier when I was getting dressed and it didn't bother me as much as it did right now. Suddenly all of the loving tenderness that Tony had shown me was overshadowed by the torture that Brent had put me though over a year ago. Now I remembered his ugly words, "Do you think other men are going to be interested in you after this? You're used goods, Baby. No man wants you in his bed anymore."

I could feel tears sting my eyes and even in the dark room I could tell that my vision was blurred by tears. Brent was clear about it. I was used goods. I wasn't good enough for Tony and I knew it. I didn't deserve the love he had shown me earlier. I felt a quiet sob come up from my stomach. Tony must have felt it, too because he stirred slightly. I bit hard on my lip to control myself. I carefully rolled away from Tony to the edge of the queen-size bed and then I buried my face in the pillow to silence my sobs. Again Tony stirred for a second when I moved but drifted back to sleep. I thought about getting out of bed and going out to his living room to get myself under control, but the thought of being that far away from Tony right now was unbearable. I wanted to be able to know that he was near me.

I'm not sure how long I cried, I got lost in my own thoughts. I was startled when Tony gently touched my shoulder.

"Babe, what's wrong?" he asked. His body wasn't touching mine, but it was so close that I could feel the warmth. "Oh, Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you? Baby, I never meant to hurt you. I didn't mean to force you into something you didn't want to do."

"Oh, Tony," I whispered back. How could he possibly think he hurt me? He made me the happiest woman on earth. I turned over and put my arms around him. "You didn't hurt me. You were incredible."

Tony wiped tears from my face. "I don't know why I'm crying. I guess I just never realized that a man could be so good to me, could make me feel like I do right now. I never imagined that I could be so in love and have that love returned."

"I always want you to feel that way, Sweetheart," he said as he looked into my eyes and then kissed me. His arms felt warm and safe and I never wanted that feeling to end.

I sighed quietly. I couldn't hide it from him; he had to know about Brent. I hoped beyond hope that Brent was wrong, that Tony would still care for me once he knew about my past. But even if he didn't, I would always have tonight as a sweet memory. I turned over so that my back was to Tony. I couldn't look at him when I told him this story. I didn't want to see the look of disgust that I feared would cross his face. He curled up against me and put his arm around me so our naked bodies pressed tightly together.

I took a deep breath and told him everything. The only details I left out were Brent's name and his speech about my being "used goods". I made sure that I mentioned that he no longer worked at Division, which was true. He left Division about six months after I did and transferred to District. I didn't want Tony to wonder every time he talked to someone at Division if he was the one.

I was barely able to control myself and at times I was crying so hard that I had to stop and get my breath. Tony was so sweet. At one point, he told me that I didn't have to continue, but I did. I needed for him to know. If we had any chance of a relationship, I had to be honest with him.

He continued to hold me after I finished telling him all that had happened. He kissed me gently. "I'm so sorry, Baby," he whispered. "No one should ever have to go through that. You should have reported it. How could anyone ever treat you that way? I promise you, Michelle, I will never hurt you."

We lay close together for a long time staring into the darkness, neither of us able to sleep. I felt my eyes getting heavy as the sun started to just break over the horizon. Tony's breathing was already steady and quiet, so I knew he was sleeping. He had been so sweet. He told me that he wouldn't hurt me, but I knew that it was a hollow promise. I thought about getting up and getting dressed and leaving, but decided to allow myself a little more time locked in his arms before morning came and the reality that he didn't want me any more hit with full force.

I awoke later to the warm sun on my face. I was a little disoriented and it took me a second to get my bearings. My apartment didn't get that much sun in the morning. As I opened my eyes and squinted against the light, I remembered everything. I rolled over to look, but Tony wasn't in bed. I really didn't expect him to be, but it hurt anyway. I looked at the clock. It was 10:30! I can't believe I slept this long.

My face still felt puffy from crying and I was just embarrassed by everything that had happened. I had totally thrown myself at him last night. Was I out of my mind? Why did I ever think this would work? I just had sex with my boss! Jesus Christ, what was I thinking? I needed to get out of here and minimize the damage. We had to work together again starting tomorrow. I looked over the edge of the bed for my clothes. They were strewn along the side of the bed still in a pile with Tony's. I could probably reach my panties and bra and camisole without getting out of bed. I could put those on under the covers.

I was about to do that when Tony appeared in the doorway. "Hey, sleepyhead," he smiled. He was wearing a pair of lounge pants and some slippers. His chest was bare and I couldn't help but notice how muscular he was.

"I was hoping you were still asleep, so I could kiss you until you woke up," he said. He set a coffee carafe and two mugs on the nightstand. He sat down on the bed and reached over to touch my face. "You're beautiful when you sleep. Do you know that? I just laid here and watched you for a long time. It was wonderful. You looked so peaceful."

He stared at me as he caressed my face. I didn't know what to think. Was he just dumping me gently? It figures that he would be that sweet. He was going to make some woman a wonderful husband some day.

"Are you ready for some coffee?" he asked as he poured. "I know you take cream. I'll be right back with that and some breakfast." He opened his closet door and took out a Cubs jersey. "Here," he said. "If you want to put something on, this should be comfortable."

He left the room humming softly and I was completely bewildered. I slipped the Cubs jersey over my head and got up to go into the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and winced. There was a reason my face felt puffy; it was puffy. My eyes were red and bloodshot. Not to mention that the make up I never took off before we fell into bed last night was streaky. I found a washcloth and turned on the cold water. I pressed the icy cloth to my face and thought I might have actually heard it sizzle. Once I passed the initial shock, it felt good. I washed my face and then wondered what I might do with my hair. The clip that I had in last light was somewhere out in the living room. Tony's comb and brush were sitting on the counter, so I grabbed the brush and ran it quickly through my hair. Then I took the comb and made a French braid. I held the end and walked out to the living room where my purse sat. I knew I had a ponytail holder somewhere in the bottom. I could hear Tony in the kitchen singing some song that he only knew about 50 of the words. I could also smell a wonderful aroma making its was through the apartment. Once my hair was fixed, I decided to walk out to the kitchen.

"Wow," I said as I looked at the room that had been so clean last night. There were pans and dishes everywhere. "You've been busy."

"Hey," Tony said, "you're supposed to be in bed. Now get back there so I can surprise you." He took my shoulders and turned me around, then he put his hand in the middle of my back and pushed gently. "Here's the cream. Get started on your coffee. Now, go!" he said emphatically. "I'll just be a couple of minutes."

I walked back to the bedroom and sat down on the bed. I've been dumped before, but never this nicely. I slipped back under the covers with my coffee mug not quite sure what to do next. I decided to just enjoy this cup of coffee and the breakfast that Tony had obviously spent some time preparing and then I would go home. I had this funny feeling that it was going to be a lost day. I was probably going to cry until I got sick. How could I possibly have done something this stupid? How could I mess up a friendship like this? What was I thinking when I told my boss that I wanted to make love to him? Michelle, this isn't a game and you're not a child. You're almost 30 years old, I told myself.

Tony came into the room carrying a tray balanced on his shoulder like a waiter. I guess he had spent some time waiting tables when he was younger. He set the tray near the bottom of the bed. "Don't move," he warned me as he left the room. He came back carrying two bed trays. He set one in front of me and proceeded to set a place setting of silverware and a napkin on it. That was followed by a wine glass filled with orange juice, a small dish of fresh fruit and a plate with a steaming omelet, bacon and home fries and two slices of wheat toast.

He took a bottle of champagne from the tray. He popped the cork and added champagne to the orange juice to make a "Mimosa". Finally satisfied that I had everything I needed in front of me, he put the same items on his own tray and then carefully slipped into bed without spilling anything.

"Tony, this is incredible," I told him. "You didn't have to go to all of this trouble."

"It wasn't any trouble. I love to cook and I love to have someone to cook for." He picked up his wine glass and held it out toward me. I followed his lead. "To the most wonderful night of my life, with the most beautiful and sensuous woman I have ever met," he said as he clinked his glass against mine.

I looked down and bit my lip not sure what to say. I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. I never had much in the way of self esteem, and any that I had was destroyed when Brent raped me. This was all just too good to be true and I knew it.

The food was wonderful and I was famished. I ate slowly savoring every bite. We made a little inconsequential conversation, mostly talking about the food and how bright and sunny it was outside. Tony finished before I did and he took his tray to the kitchen. By the time he got back I was finished with everything but my Mimosa, so he took my tray as well. Then he came back and poured himself another drink before he got back into bed.

I had almost finished my Mimosa. Tony reached for the orange juice pitcher that he set on the floor. "Here," he said as he started to pour. "Let me make you another one."

"No, Tony, I'm fine," I told him. "This was so wonderful. I will never forget last night or this morning. You've been so sweet to me. Thank you for everything." I knew there were tears in my eyes and I tried to blink them away.

Tony looked at me, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Michelle, are you… are you saying 'goodbye'?"

I smiled and looked away as the first tears started to fall. "Oh, Tony, stop!" I said. "After what I told you last night, I know you don't want me. I understand. I'm not angry with you and you have every right to be angry with me. What I did to you was wrong. I never meant to let this happen. I never meant for us to end up in bed. I just lost control…I'm sorry. I'll get dressed and leave. We'll just pretend this didn't happen. I'll never tell anyone, I promise. If you would like me to put in for a transfer the next time a position that I'm qualified for comes up, I'll do it."

I started to get up, but Tony pulled me back into the bed. He turned me to face him and took my hands in his.

"Do you think that I don't care about you because some bastard assaulted you?"

"Look, Tony," I said shaking my head. "I don't blame you. I understand how that must look to you."

"No, obviously you don't," he told me. "Michelle, if you tell me who he is, I'll kill him. He had no right to hurt you. If he had beaten you up and left you on the floor, you wouldn't blame yourself and you would have called the police. But instead, he raped you and you think it was your fault and the son of a bitch got away with it. Honey, that breaks my heart. It doesn't make you less desirable to me. After all you've been through, I'm just grateful that you could trust me enough to let me make love to you." He pulled me into his arms.

"My record with women isn't exactly stellar," he said. "I was sleeping with a murderer and a double agent. Maybe you should reconsider whether I'm good enough for you."

"Don't say that, Tony. You're everything I've ever wanted. Nina fooled everyone, it wasn't just you. You shouldn't feel guilty about that relationship."

"How about if we both forget our pasts and start looking toward the future." He kissed the tip of my nose and smiled. "Now I understand why you were so tense when we started out. I wish I had known. I would have taken it slower and made sure you were comfortable."

"Tony, everything you did was perfect. I told you already, no man has ever made me feel that good."

"I'm glad," he said with a slight smile. "If you'll let me, I'd like to do it again. I love you, Michelle. I suppose I've loved you almost since the moment I met you, but I wouldn't admit it to myself. Last night just confirmed what I've known for a long time, that you are the most special woman that has ever come into my life.

We fell back onto the bed kissing and caressing. We spent most of the day making love either in bed or in the shower and finally on the sofa in the living room.

We spent that night at my apartment then went into work separately the next morning. We didn't want anyone to see us come in together. We didn't live anywhere near each other and if we came in together there wouldn't be any way to explain it. The rumor mill would start in earnest. No, this is going to be our little secret for as long as we could keep it that way. It's so special and it's just between us. That's the way I want it. I suppose someday we'll have to tell them, but for now, let everyone keep guessing.

_I had planned to end the story here, but a couple of you asked what Tony was going to do about Brent. I thought it over and decided that maybe Tony should meet Brent. The ensuing fireworks could be interesting…so keep reading._


	6. Chapter 6: Tony

_Thank you to all of my reviewers! You guys are THE BEST! Your many positive reviews are very encouraging. On with the story…_

Chapter 6: Tony

15 months later

"Wow! You look gorgeous, Sweetheart," I told Michelle as she walked into the living room. She wore a stunning red silk cocktail dress and had pulled her hair into an elaborate pile of curls. "I love being on the arm of the most beautiful woman in the place," I said as I helped her into her coat.

"Thank you," she said, "but that still doesn't make me want to go to this party."

"Why don't you want to go? This is always a nice party. It's at a beautiful place, the food is always good, there'll be plenty of alcohol and," I said as I turned her around and pulled her into my arms, "we have a room upstairs in the hotel so when we're tired of the party, we can go to our room and make love all night."

"How about if we skip the party and go straight to the hotel?" she suggested.

"Sorry, Babe. The Director of CTU is expected to be there," I told her.

Michelle shrugged her shoulders. "Okay, let's go then."

I held the door open for her and we got in the car. We were on our way to the annual Christmas party held jointly for CTU, Division and District. It was always a good time and Michelle usually liked parties, but she had tried everything to get out of going to this one. She even offered to work this evening just to avoid the party. I had asked her over and over again why she didn't want to go and she had given me a million excuses, but none of them was very good. Last year she begged off by saying that it was too hard to be in a social situation like that without people realizing that we were a couple. At that time, no one knew we were dating and I wanted to keep it that way, so her point was valid. Now that we were married, it would seem pretty odd for Michelle not to be at the party.

A lot has happened in the last 15 months. Two months after I was named acting director of CTU, I was promoted to Director. One of my first actions was to create the position "Director of Field Operations", a position that had been sorely needed for years. Once I created the position, I set about convincing Jack Bauer that he should take the job. He finally agreed. He's doing great and he's putting his life back together. Much to everyone's surprise, he moved in with Kate Warner. I consider the relationship something akin to "Beauty and the Beast." Kate is so mild mannered and sweet and refined and Jack is, well you know, he's Jack. No one really expects it to last, but for now they both seem to be enjoying it.

Michelle and I were finally forced to reveal our relationship to the people at CTU. We kept it secret for almost a year. We had to "go public" two days before we got married. At that point I had no choice but to tell Ryan Chappelle. That was a good time. Chappelle's face was as red as a firecracker on the Fourth of July. He went ballistic and threatened to force one of us to transfer or quit. To his dismay, I had him over a barrel. He really couldn't force out his CTU director and I had made sure that Michelle was an integral part of so many projects that getting rid of her would compromise the start up of several homeland security initiatives. He eventually cooled down and told us that as long as it didn't interfere with our work, we could both stay.

Actually, I'm not sure which was worse, telling Chappelle that Michelle and I were getting married or telling my parents. Chappelle could only fire me; my mother could make my life a living hell. I guess I shouldn't make it sound like she's a beast. She's my mother and I know she loves me regardless of what I do. Michelle just wasn't who Mama expected her oldest son to marry. Oh, she and Pop are nice to Michelle, but they clearly don't treat her the same way they treat their other sons-in-law and daughter-in-law. Mama has a way of looking right through Michelle much of the time. My brothers and sisters adore Michelle and do everything they can to make her feel part of the family. Michelle tries to pretend that it doesn't bother her, but I know that it does. She appreciates the way my siblings treat her and she and Vanessa have become fast friends. But I know that she wants the approval of my parents. In some way, I think she's looking for them to step in as surrogate parents, to replace the parents she had lost so many years earlier. More than once I've told Michelle that I think my parents will warm up to her when we have children, but deep down I'm not sure that's true.

The drive from our home to the hotel where the function was being held was almost a half hour and Michelle was silent for most of it. I wish I knew what was bothering her. She usually told me everything, but right now she was holding something back. I pulled up in front of the hotel and gave the keys to the valet. The doorman had already opened the door for Michelle and helped her out of the car. I noticed her expression as she thanked him. Of course she was courteous, but she never really smiled, at least not one of those smiles that lit up her face.

We quickly checked into our room and dropped our coats and overnight bags off before going to the party. Michelle again suggested, this time rather seductively, that we not bother going downstairs to the party. That was tough to say 'no' to. Let's weigh out the choices here, a party where I have to pretend that I like Ryan Chappelle and Brad Hammond or a night spent naked with the most beautiful woman in the world. My resolve was waning when we heard a knock at the door.

"Come on, you two," I heard Jack call playfully from the hall. "Cut that out!" he said as if he knew what I was thinking.

Michelle and I both laughed and I went to the door. "You're a killjoy, Jack. Do you know that? You're a killjoy. How did you know this was our room?"

"I'm a spy! You don't think I can figure out what room you're staying in?" Jack laughed. "Let's go downstairs and have a couple of martinis and some dinner and you came come back up here to do whatever you like and I promise that I won't bother you."

"Why do you put up with him, Kate?" I asked teasingly.

"He keeps things lively, he picks up after himself and he's good in bed. What more can a woman ask? Right, Michelle?" she said trying to keep a straight face.

Michelle didn't answer. She was picking up her purse, quite obviously lost in her own thoughts.

"Right, Michelle?" Kate said again.

"Uh…oh, yeah, right," Michelle said absently.

Jack and I exchanged glances and the girls stepped out in front of us on the way to the elevator.

"Sorry," Jack said quietly, "did we come in in the middle of something?"

I shook my head. "I don't know what's wrong."

We caught up with them at the elevator and went downstairs to the ballroom where the party was already in full swing. We all stopped at the bar for our first round of drinks and soon we were making small talk with a large group from District that had planted itself as close to the bar as possible.

I saw Michelle and Kate walk toward the dining room and disappear from my view. Maybe Michelle would tell Kate what was bothering her. I went back to the rowdy conversation going on around me and my concerns about Michelle slipped to the back of my mind.

I finished my first drink and walked to the bar for a second. As I was waiting, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Tony Almeida! It's been years since I've seen you." I turned toward the voice and extended my hand.

"Brent Hayden," I said in return. "How are you?" I asked as we shook hands.

"Doing okay," he said. "I hear you're running the show over at CTU these days. Congratulations on the promotion."

I stopped for a moment to order a drink. "Thanks, I think," I said. "What are you doing now? I heard you left Division a while back."

"Yeah, I had a chance to go to District and I took it."

"Do you like it?"

"It's okay. If I didn't have to answer to Alberta Greene it would be better," he said as he laughed.

The bartender brought my drink and I reached for it with my left hand.

"Hey, what's that?" Brent asked. "That looks like a wedding ring. Did you get yourself hitched, Stud?"

"Yeah, three months ago." I don't know why I was embarrassed, but I smiled and looked at the floor.

"So you're off the market. Gee, maybe that will give the rest of us losers a chance now that the babe magnet is taken."

"I was never exactly a 'babe magnet'," I told him.

"Oh, no, when you worked at Division they practically had to put your desk behind bars to keep the girls away from you. The rest of us never had a chance when you were around. What girl would look twice at me after she looked into those big, brown doe eyes of yours?"

Now I was really embarrassed and happy to see that Michelle was coming toward me. Brent had his back to her so she couldn't see who I was talking to. She winked at me and found a free spot at the bar to order a drink. It looked as though she was having a good time now. Maybe the first glass of wine had relaxed her a bit.

"Here comes my wife," I said.

I watched as she reached out a delicate hand and took the wine glass from the bar then walked over to me.

"Sweetheart," I said taking her free hand. "Do you remember Brent Hayden from Division? You both would have been there at the same time."

Michelle seemed startled. "Uh…yes…I do. I…uh…think our paths crossed over there. How are you, Brent?"

"I'm fine. What were you thinking when you married this bum? I always thought you'd do better than that," he said. Based on his tone, I wasn't quite sure he was teasing. "No, seriously, congratulations," he said as he reached out to touch her arm. She turned and took a step back to talk to me but the action also allowed her to avoid his touch. Michelle was usually very warm but her attitude tonight was aloof and cool.

"Jack and Kate saved seats for us at a table near the window," she told me. "I'm going to go sit down. They're going to start serving dinner soon." She nodded at Brent and started to walk away.

"Hang on, Honey. I'll come with you," I called after her. I looked back at Brent. "Good to see you. Maybe we'll talk later."

Dinner was uneventful. We ate and talked with the people at our table. The dessert plates were cleared which signaled the only part of the evening that I hated: the speeches. The two or three highest ranking agents in LA would get up and thank all of us little people for working so hard this year. It was the same every year and this one would be no different.

I rolled my eyes at Jack. "I need a drink if I'm going to make it through this. Can I get anything for anybody else?" I looked around the table but most of the glasses were full.

"I'll go, Tony," Michelle said. "I need to use the ladies' room anyway. What are you drinking?"

"Gin and tonic would be great. Thanks, Honey." She smiled as she walked away.

A good ten minutes passed before it occurred to me that Michelle should be back by now.

"Bar must be busy," I commented to Jack.

"Maybe the ladies' room was crowded and Michelle went up your room," Kate offered. "I did that earlier."

I looked around the room and most of the tables were full. Not many people had left their seats to go to the bar or the rest rooms.

"Hey Tony," Chloe O'Brien, one of our new employees, said as she came up from behind me. "You might want to go and rescue Michelle. Some guy has her cornered at the bar and she looks like she'd like to get away."

"Who is he, Chloe?" I asked.

"I can't remember his name. I've seen him before. He used to be the head of IT over at Division. I don't know where he works now. He's a real techno-geek."

"Do you mean Brent Hayden?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's his name," Chloe agreed, nodding her head.

That was when it first hit me that Hayden was the man who raped Michelle. Now I knew why Michelle didn't want to come to the party. How stupid could I possibly be? Didn't I notice how Michelle reacted when I was talking to him? The way she stammered, the way she tried to back away from him – why didn't I notice it? How could I have missed it?

Chloe was still talking, but I wasn't really listening. "I thought I could help Michelle out. I asked her if she wanted to go to the ladies' room with me but he pretty much told me to get lost. Michelle said she was fine, but she didn't seem fine. Maybe I shouldn't have left her alone. I didn't know what else to do so I came in here to tell you and…"

Her voice trailed off as I crossed the room and went out to the bar. No one was standing near it and the bartender was using the free moment to wipe off the bar while a young man behind him restocked the glasses.

"Excuse me," I said, "I'm looking for a man and woman that were here just a minute or so ago."

The bartender shook his head. "We've been pretty busy, sir. I can't say I noticed anyone in particular."

"The woman may have looked like she was cornered, like she wanted to get away."

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't notice."

The young man behind him stopped stocking glasses. He looked to be in his early 20s. He was small, probably no more that 5 feet 4 or 5 inches and probably didn't weigh 130 pounds. His eyes didn't seem to both focus on the same point and he looked as though he might be mentally disabled. "Billy saw the lady," he said.

The bartender raised his eyebrows. "You saw them, Billy?"

"Yeah, Mr. Jerry, a pretty lady in a red dress, Billy saw the pretty lady." He had an unusual way of referring to himself in the third person like a child just learning to talk.

"That's the lady," I told him, "the one in the red dress. Was she talking to a man?"

He nodded eagerly. "The pretty lady was talking to a bad man. Billy didn't like the way the man talked to the pretty lady. He called her bad names. The pretty lady looked like she wanted to cry. Billy went to get more ice for Mr. Jerry and then they were gone. The lady ordered two drinks and she left them on the bar." He pointed at the end of the bar. "She left her purse. Billy put it behind the bar in case she came back looking for it."

"I remember her," the bartender said. "She ordered a gin and tonic and a Bailey's Irish chilled"

"This is very important; the lady might be in some danger. Did either of you see where they went?" I knew my voice was shaking. I needed to get control.

"No, sir, like I said, it was busy," the bartender said.

"How about you, Billy?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Billy didn't see where they went, mister. Billy doesn't want the bad man to hurt the lady," he said his eyes looking scared and sad.

"Me either, Billy," I told him. Then to the bartender, "I need to talk to the head of security right now. Get him on the phone." The bartender nodded and picked up the phone. I scanned the room for exits. There was one behind the bar, one to my left that led into another ballroom, one to the right of the bar that led into the hotel and the door to the outside. As I scanned the room I saw one of Jack's field agents leaving the men's room.

"Baker," I called using my command voice, the one I used during a crisis. "Don't alarm anyone, but get Jack and bring him here now. I've got an emergency."

"Done," Baker responded without asking any questions. He headed toward the ballroom.

The bartender handed me the phone. "I've got Mr. Wheeler; he's the head of security."

"Thank you," I said to him. "Mr. Wheeler," I said into the phone. "This is Tony Almeida. I'm the Director of CTU. I'm with the party in the Grand Ballroom and we have an emergency situation. I believe a man named Brent Hayden has abducted a woman. I suspect Hayden is armed. The woman he abducted is also an agent and if he wasn't armed I think she would have fought back. I need your people to cover all of the exits. No one is to leave the building without my knowledge. He may flash his badge in an attempt to persuade security to let him out. The valets are to be instructed not to return cars or keys to anyone. You need to call LAPD, but tell them to come in silently and in unmarked cars. I don't want this guy spooked. Do you understand?

"Yes sir. I'll notify my staff now and have the exits covered. Can you give me a description so we know who were looking for?"

"The man is Caucasian, about 45-50 years old, about 6 feet, 2 inches, well built, very muscular, probably weighs 260 or 270, but he's solid. He's wearing a dark suit. His hair is a light brown, close cut and receding in the front."

"Got it," Wheeler replied. "Give me the description of the woman."

"She's also Caucasian, early 30's, brown, curly hair. She's about 5 feet 5 inches tall, slender build. She's wearing a red silk dress.

"Look, Mr. Wheeler," I said trying to sound conciliatory, "I'm not trying to pull rank here, but I'm a federal agent and I would like to take charge of this operation. I'll get agents to accompany your security people, but we're here for a social event, so my agents are not armed. I'll have to ask your security guards to relinquish their weapons to the federal agents. We may have a hostage situation here and my people are simply better trained to deal with it. We need someone to review all of the security tapes of the exits as well. Can you tell me if Hayden is registered as a guest in the hotel?"

I waited while Wheeler looked up the information. "No, he's not registered unless he used an alias."

"Thanks for checking. Can you provide me with a two way radio to communicate with you and your staff?"

"I'll get that for you, Mr. Almeida. I'll also instruct my men to defer to the federal agents. If you send about 15 agents to the lobby, I'll direct them to the exits that my men are covering."

I thanked Mr. Wheeler and hung up the phone. Jack and Agent Baker were now standing in front of me. They heard enough of the conversation to gather what was going on.

"I'll get together a group of agents and brief them. They can cover the exits with hotel security. I'll coordinate the teams. Try not to worry, Tony. We'll find her." Baker said and he headed off toward the ballroom full of agents.

"This doesn't make sense, Tony. Why would Brent Hayden kidnap Michelle?" Jack asked looking perplexed.

"It's a long story. They dated a couple of years ago. The relationship turned abusive and Michelle got out. She told me about the relationship; she just never gave me a name. She said he left Division after she did, but she didn't say he worked at District. That's why she was acting so funny earlier tonight. I had no idea it was Hayden until just now."

Agents started assembling around us. "Hayden could have exited into either the small ballroom in the back or into the lobby. If they left through the front door, it'll be on the security tape."

Jack looked at the layout of the room. "Based on where the bartender says they were standing, Hayden probably took her out through the empty ballroom."

"That's what I was thinking," I agreed with him. I turned to the bartender, "Is there an exit from that ballroom?"

He nodded. "There's a rear exit into a service corridor. The kitchen is to the right and the garage is to the left."

"Can you get into the hotel through that corridor?"

"No sir, you can only get into the hotel from the bar."

"Mister," Billy called from the ballroom. "The pretty lady had these in her hair?" He was holding up a rhinestone hair pin.

"Yeah," I said taking it from him. "She had them all through her hair."

"Billy found it on the floor in here," he said pointing at the small ballroom.

Jack and Tony moved into the ballroom. "That rear door is the only exit," Jack said. "They had to go through it. We need a team to cover that service corridor."

Two men from hotel security met Jack and me in the ballroom. They provided us with radios and guns.

I held the radio in front of my mouth. "This is Almeida. Maintain security on all exits. We believe they left through the service corridor behind ballroom 2. There is no entrance to the hotel through this corridor. Baker, send teams to search the kitchen on the west end of that corridor and the garage on the east. I want each level of the garage checked. Jack and I will check the stairwell in the garage up to the roof."

"I copy, Tony," Baker answered. "LAPD is on the scene. I'll coordinate with them."

My heart was in my throat. I could only imagine what Hayden was capable of doing to Michelle. I knew what he had done in the past and I feared that it was child's play compared to what he might do to her now.


	7. Chapter 7: Michelle

Chapter 7: Michelle

Today had been a nightmare. I spent the entire day worrying about the party and then just minutes after we got there my worst fear came true. Tony was standing at the bar talking to Brent Hayden. I tried to act naturally but I did a terrible job. I'm sure Tony figured it out immediately. I just want this evening to be over. I just wish I was home with Tony snuggling on the sofa and watching a movie.

We made it through dinner and all I had to suffer through was the speeches. After that, I'd tell Tony that I had a headache and we could leave. I should have let Tony go to the bar and get the drinks, but I guess the three or four glasses of wine I already had under my belt were making me feel brave. I stopped at the ladies' room then made my way over to the bar. I had just ordered our drinks when a familiar voice came up from behind me.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the lovely Mrs. Almeida." Brent put his hand in the middle of my back and rubbed it. I felt myself tense up.

"Leave me alone Brent," I said stiffly.

"Do you think you can get rid of me that easily? Do you think just because you went off and married the CTU director that I'm going to go away? I don't think so, Michelle. Does your adoring husband know about your illicit past?"

"My illicit past? The last I heard, being raped doesn't make my past 'illicit'?"

"Rape? Is that what you told him? Why you little whore! I think you've got that wrong," he hissed in my face. "You were more than happy to give me whatever sex I wanted when I was taking you to Santa Barbara for the weekend and to expensive restaurants and to the theater. When I wanted you to move in and make it a little more permanent, you weren't interested. You didn't want a relationship. You wanted me to spend money on you and you were willing to repay me with sex. That's what whores do, Michelle. I was paying for sex; it's just that the cash didn't go into your hands. Don't act like you were the victim. I was the victim; you got what you deserved. You're no better than any high priced whore."

Tears stung my eyes. Even if I didn't believe what he was saying, it still hurt and part of me wondered if in some ways what he was right. He pressed closer to me as the bartender put my drinks on the bar. It was just about then that Chloe O'Brien came by and asked me if I wanted to go to the ladies' room. Brent turned and smiled sweetly at her.

"Michelle and I are just finishing up. Why don't you run along and she'll meet you there in a few minutes."

Chloe looked at me as if waiting for me to answer.

"It's okay, Chloe. I'll see you a little later." Chloe shrugged and walked away.

"You can call me any name you like, just leave me alone. Any relationship we had is over and if you can't deal with that, that's your issue, not mine." I reached for my drinks and started to move away. That was when I felt him press the gun into my ribs.

"I don't think so, Michelle. Turn around slowly and walk toward that door," he indicated a door that led to an unused ballroom to the left of the bar. "You make a sound and I will kill you. You know that don't you?"

I turned silently leaving my drinks and evening bag on the bar. I moved slowly into the dark room to allow my eyes to adjust to the low lighting. Slowing down also gave me time to think of a way to escape.

"Faster, bitch!" Brent hissed under his breath then he pressed the gun into my spine and used his free hand to push me forward. As he did, I lost my balance and fell. Brent grabbed my arm and pulled me up. While he was focused on pulling me up, I took advantage of the distraction and pulled out a couple of the rhinestone hair pins I had used to put up my hair. I discreetly dropped the first one in hopes that someone would find it and realize that we had been in this room. I held the second in my hand and looked for another opportunity to drop it.

Our eyes had adjusted to the lighting now and I could see a door at the far end of the room. Brent pushed me toward the door. He held me against the wall as he peeked out the door to make sure it was clear.

"Come on," he whispered as if I was going along voluntarily. He pushed me into what looked like a service corridor. The lighting was harsh and we both took a second to blink as our eyes again adjusted to the change in level of light. As we stood there, I heard voices and the sounds of pots and pans and dishes clanging down the hall to the left. The hall apparently led to the kitchen. Brent heard it too and pushed me to the right.

A door at the end of the hallway led to a bank of elevators and a stairwell that serviced the parking garage. Brent checked the stairwell and pushed me through the door. "Go," he said the gun still against my back. When I was sure he wasn't looking down, I dropped the second hair pin. I would have to find some way to get more of them out of my hair.

I started up the stairs. Brent was right behind me. He held the gun low against my spine and held my arm tightly with his other hand to keep me from escaping.

"You're not going to get away with this, Brent. You know that." I said hoping to reason with him. "Tony knew I was only going to the ladies' room and the bar. He's probably already looking for me."

"He'll think you went back to your room for something," he said. I could hear the edge in his voice. He was nervous and I needed to keep eroding any confidence that he had left.

"Two-thirds of the federal agents in LA are downstairs, Brent. How long do you think it will take them to canvas this entire place and find us? Where are you going to go? The valet has all of the car keys. You can't even steal a car unless you intend to hot wire it."

We had just reached a landing and Brent spun me around and slammed me into the wall. I hit the wall so hard that he knocked the wind out of me. At the same time, my head hit the wall. I used the premise of rubbing the back of my head to pull out a couple more hair pins.

"You are going to shut up now, bitch or I will kill you! I'm a trained agent just like all those people downstairs and I've got more experience than most of them. I'm perfectly capable of getting us out of this building, out of Los Angeles and out of the country, if that's what I want to do. Tony will never find you. I'll have you all to myself." I was getting to him and I could tell. For the moment, he had the gun, but I had the emotional upper hand.

He turned me back around and pushed me up the next flight of stairs. He was in good shape and showed no signs of tiring as we reached the seventh floor. The stairs ended there and a door led out onto the roof of the parking garage. Brent again peeked out and, finding it clear, we stepped out into the cool, December night. Just outside the door I dropped another hair pin.

Brent looked around and guided me toward a dark section at the far end of the roof. The overhead lights that should have illuminated the area were burned out and it left the section in shadows. Brent found two dark SUVs parked side by side and pushed me between them. Our bodies were close and he pressed my back against one of the SUVs. He was no longer holding the gun against me. His arm was hanging down and the gun was pointed toward the floor.

"Brent, listen to me…" I started hoping to push some more buttons and get him to let me go.

"No, Michelle you listen to me. You used me. I loved you and all you wanted was a good time. Well, now I'm the one who's going to have a good time." His eyes shone with rage and for the first time tonight I was scared. I knew I had to get away now.

I reached up with both hands and pushed them hard against his shoulders. He staggered backwards for a second and fell against the other SUV. I screamed and started to run toward the stairwell but Brent recovered quickly and fell in step behind me. I was wearing high heels and it only took him a second to catch up to me. He grabbed my hair and jerked by head backwards. The change in momentum threw me backward into him and both of us went down on the cement floor.

Brent's rage had escalated. His face was red and he was breathing fast and hard. He held the gun to my temple and used his other had to hold me to the ground by my throat. I gasped for breath like I had the night when he raped me and I was sure that he was going to choke me to death.

"Don't try that again, Michelle. You can't get away from me. I told you, you're mine now." He let go of my throat and stood up. "Stand up," he commanded.

Too scared to do anything else, I did as I was told.

"Get back between the cars," he said as he pushed me toward the same two SUVs.

Soon we were again between the cars and hidden from view. He used his body to pin me face forward against the side of one of the SUVs. He pulled off his tie and used it to bind my wrists together behind my back. With that, he turned me around to face him.

"There you go, Baby. Now you can't fight me," he said in a soft, seductive whisper. He caressed my face with the back of his hand. It was the same hand that was still holding the gun and the cold steel of the weapon brushed lightly across my face. I suddenly realized that I was crying.

"Please, don't do this, Brent. Please, don't. Please just let me go. I won't tell anyone that it was you." The last time I begged like this was when he raped me. I hated feeling so out of control. I hated being scared. I just wanted to feel Tony's arms around me. I just wanted this all to end.

He laughed and he kissed me roughly. I could taste alcohol on his mouth. He pushed his tongue in my mouth and I started to gag. I managed to turn my head away and again I asked him to stop.

"This is just the beginning, Honey. Wait till you see what I've got in store for you." He slid his hands down along my body and back up to my breasts. He fondled them through my dress and bra. A sharp sob come up from my throat.

Brent pushed the gun into my ribs. "Don't do that again if you want to live."

I bit my lip to try and silence my sobs. Brent grabbed the front of my dress and ripped it open. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade. He opened the blade and ran the tip slowly along the edge of my bra pressing just hard enough to draw a fine line of blood. He finally cut the bra and pushed is open.

"Oh, please stop," I whispered. My voice was shaking and a torrent of tears fell from my eyes. As scared as I was, I was still looking for a way out. I decided to try another tactic. "I thought you loved me. Why are you trying to hurt me?"

I looked into his eyes hoping that I could find some way to convince him to stop but his eyes were distant and vacant. It was as if he was in a world of his own. I wasn't sure if I was even in that world with him or if he heard what I had said. He continued to fondle me and he moaned softly. He leaned into me and rubbed his body against mine. He was fully aroused and I could feel him pressing against me.

"Kneel down," he panted. He moved his hands to my shoulders and pushed me down on my knees. He used his leg to pin me against the SUV while he unzipped his pants.

I was sobbing hysterically now, no longer trying to keep my voice down. "Please don't make me do this, please, please," I begged over and over. He pushed the gun into my temple. I was beginning to wonder if it was better just to let him kill now than to be raped by him again and have him kill me in the end anyway. I was convinced at this point that he wouldn't let me live.

"Now, bitch!" he screamed as he pointed the gun at the center of my forehead.

"Drop the weapon, Hayden! Drop the weapon or I will shoot! Drop the fucking gun!" Tony stood poised several feet in front of us, his gun trained on Brent's chest.

In a move so quick it stunned me, Brent grabbed my arm and pulled me to a standing position. He held me tight in front of his body and put the gun to my head again.

"No, Almeida, you drop the weapon," Brent said in a measured tone.

Tony swallowed hard, lowered his hand and let the gun fall to the ground.

"Now, call off your dogs. I know you're not out here alone. Use the radio and call everyone off. Don't try anything funny or you'll watch me splatter your wife's brains all over that shiny black car."

Tony pulled out a two way radio. "This is Almeida. Stand down and secure your weapons. I repeat, all personnel, stand down and secure your weapons."

"Is Hayden in custody, Tony?" Baker responded.

"No, he has a hostage."

"Bring the radio over here, Almeida," Hayden ordered, "and open the channel. I have some instructions."

Tony held the radio in front of him and opened the channel so everyone could hear him.

"This is Hayden. I have Michelle and I won't hesitate to kill her. Listen closely and follow my instructions and I'll let Michelle live," he paused for a second. "I want all police, federal agents and security to go to the ballroom now. When everyone is there, send the garage elevator to the roof. I'll give you three minutes to get that done. If the elevator isn't empty when it gets here, I'll kill Michelle. I'll decide what floor we'll exit on. Again, if there are police or security or federal agents anywhere on the floor, I'll kill Michelle. I hope you're all clear on that. Michelle and I will drive out of the garage. She'll be driving and my gun will be pointed at her head, so don't try and follow us. I don't have to tell you what will happen if I spot a tail. Everyone move to the ballroom now."

Tony stood in front of us without moving.

"That means you too, Almeida," Brent said coldly.

Tony took a couple of slow steps backward. "We can talk this out, Brent. You don't have to…"

At that moment, Jack came up silently from behind and brought a heavy object, probably a brick, down on Brent's shoulder in an attempt to knock the gun out of his hand. The force of the blow knocked both of us to the ground. Brent dropped the gun, but it didn't go far and he was able to retrieve it before Tony could kick it away. He cocked the gun and pointed it at me.

As if in slow motion, I could see the muscles in his hand tense up to pull the trigger. I covered my head knowing full well that I couldn't protect myself. Suddenly, two almost simultaneous explosions echoed around me. The air was filled with the acrid smell of gun powder. I wasn't sure what had happened at first. It was a second or two before I realized that Jack was pulling Hayden off of me and Tony was beside me lifting me into his arms.

"He's dead, Tony." I heard Jack say.

Tony was breathing hard. "Are you okay, Baby?" he whispered as he tried to get his breath. I was sobbing against his chest. "I've got you now. You're safe. He can't hurt you any more, Honey," he said as he planted kisses in my hair and on my face.

Without letting go of me, he took out the radio and raised it to his lips. "The suspect is dead. I repeat, Hayden is dead. We need a crime scene team on the roof now."

I began to calm down and Tony helped me to my feet. He stripped off his suit jacket and put it around me to cover my torn dress.

The LAPD arrived on the roof. Tony and Jack surrendered their weapons voluntarily which was customary when law enforcement officers were involved in a shooting. I was sure that they both would be cleared, but there would be a routine investigation.

We were all taken back downstairs to the ballroom and separated for questioning. Again, I knew this was routine, but being separated from Tony was the hardest part. As I repeated my story three different times to three different officers, I just wanted to have Tony next to me. Kate sat with me the whole time. She kept bringing me glasses of water and cups of coffee from the bar. Eventually a medic came over and checked me out. I was bruised and had abrasions on my hands and knees from falling down, but I was otherwise alright.

It was almost 4 o'clock in the morning before the police were finished. Everyone started leaving and Tony and Jack came back into the small ballroom to get Kate and me.

As we walked past the bar, the young man who I had seen earlier behind the bar waved and called to Tony. "Mister, mister," he said. He was holding up my evening bag. It was then that I remembered that I left it at the bar when Brent pulled the gun on me.

"Hi Billy," Tony said. "What are you still doing here?"

"Billy couldn't leave," he said. "Billy had to make sure the pretty lady got her purse back."

"That was sweet of you," I said softly as I reached for the bag. "Thank you."

"You did a great job tonight, Billy. The information you gave us really helped. And finding the hair pin was an important clue. You're a real hero," Tony told him and patted him on the shoulder.

Billy looked down at the bar and he blushed bright red. "Billy's happy that the pretty lady is okay."

"Me, too. Thanks again," Tony said as we started to walk away.

"Wait," Billy said, "the lady never got her drink."

"What?" Tony asked.

"She ordered a Bailey's Irish chilled and she left it on the bar. Billy can make a fresh one for her." Without saying another word, he reached for the bottle and poured a couple of ounces into a shaker with some ice. He shook it for a second or two then strained the liquid into a glass and handed it to me. "Take it to your room with you."

As miserable as I felt, I couldn't help but smile at him. I took a sip and felt the cool liquid slide down my throat. "It's delicious. Thank you, Billy," I said, "you made my night."

Tony and I made our way into the hotel. He had his arm around me and I tilted my head so it could lean on his shoulder. For nearly a year after Brent raped me, I could feel his hands on me every time I closed my eyes. I probably should have gotten professional help but chose to deal with it on my own. That horrible feeling was only erased when Tony showed me what it really meant to be loved. It was going to be easier this time. Tony's love was enough to sustain me. I knew that it would take some time, but Tony and I would work through this together. He would be there for me and support me no matter what happened. I guess I've known that since our first date. Tony is my one and only, my soul mate, my eternal love.

_Thanks to all of you who have reviewed. Some of you have reviewed every chapter. If you've authored any stories, you understand how encouraging that is. I really appreciate it. So if you have been reading and haven't yet reviewed, I really wish you would take a second and do so._

_By the way, I'm also curious where you guys are from and whether season 4 is being shown now where you are (or when it will start if it isn't already running). I am outlining a season 4 Tony/Michelle story that will contain spoilers up til about 3pm, then I take it in my own direction. I won't bother posting it for a while if no one is going to read it, so let me know if you are willing to read something with season 4 spoilers in it. (I posted a one chapter season 4 fanfic called "Forever?" and only got a couple of reviews for it. I wondered if that was because it contained spoilers or maybe it was just really bad!) So let me know if I should post this soon or sometime in the future. _

_Thanks again for reading and reviewing. You guys are the best!_


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